The Secret with the Saint
by EvilLordMoldyVoldy
Summary: A girl is found in the woods with no injuries... So why is the FBI called in? Also, a new girl joins the team, could this mean something for Zack? Also, Zack gets ill just after the body arrives, could there be a connection? Pre-Season 3
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not, nor will I ever own Bones.**

**I wrote the first few chapters over the summer and the later ones slowly… In other words, I procrastinated. Somehow, I am still not finished.**

* * *

Brennan rested her head on her hand as she tried to put off the inevitable work... It was selfish, she knew, to procrastinate, to deprive these bones of an identity, deny families a sense of closure, but sometimes it was just too much. She yawned slightly as she tried to summon the energy to stand up... 1... 2... 3... 4... 5 minutes passed, and she still just sat there... Sometimes she wished that someone would notice how much of a toll this took on her, but it was just so much easier to down a cup of coffee and go on with the work.

"Good morning!" Booth interrupted her pondering, strutting across the room and slamming some Starbucks onto her desk with just enough force to jolt Brennan out of her thoughts, but not spill the coffee. "Time to wake up!"

Brennan looked up sleepily as she began sipping on her coffee slowly.

"Late night?" Booth snickered slightly at his partner, picking her jacket up off a chair.

Brennan rubbed her eyes. "More like late morning."

"I have just the thing to wake you up."

"Another case?" Brennan struggled to keep her eyes open.

Booth tossed her the jacket. "It's a two-hour drive. You can sleep on the way."

* * *

Booth and Brennan stepped out of their truck, and glanced around. It was not a very mountainous region, but the valleys and hills were almost big enough to be considered mountains. They spotted a man with a matching suit and truck who appeared to be in control... He walked towards them, with a slightly frightened look on his face.

"Agent Andrew Bronan" He reached out his hand and bowed slightly. "I assume you are Dr. Brennan and Agent Seeley Booth."

Booth reached out and firmly shook the other agent's hand, nodding in recognition. Brennan just looked at him as though he was nothing important, wanting nothing more than to be asleep.

Agent Bronan led them to another truck, and he pointed at the Haz-Mat suits waiting in the open trunk, "You might want to wear these."

Booth gave the other agent an odd look, but neither he nor Brennan questioned the man. The three of the suited up and began their hike.

"Where was the body found?" Brennan asked, skipping the cordialities of a first meeting.

"We got a call about a couple hours ago." The agent began, walking down the slope. "Said they saw something odd out here when they were hiking. They said that is was near the bottom of the slope in this general area."

"So, are you going to show us where it is, or are we just supposed to follow the smell?" Booth asked, scrunching his nose.

"That doesn't smell like decomposition at all. It is most likely just where animals have defecated." Brennan stared blankly at the FBI agent, who constantly had to pardoned for his lack of knowledge. Brennan pointed slightly to Booth's side. "Follow your nose that way."

He looked to his left, and jumped at what he saw "I think I found it."

Brennan rushed over to where Booth was standing. He pointed over the patch of brown grass that was blocked off by the police. In the grass a slightly decomposed corpse sat, skin still intact. It was most likely a female, probably in her late teens or early twenties. But that didn't seem odd at all. What was odd is that it didn't look like she had any obvious external injuries; she appeared as though she was just relaxing against the tree. She looked like she had been out there for less than a day. It was hard to tell just by looking; though, it seemed as though only a few scavengers had found her as of yet, so it couldn't have been very long. Booth heard Brennan gasp beside him. She held out her arm to stop him from walking any closer to the body.

"What is it?" Booth asked. "It doesn't look all that dangerous"

"Appearances can be deceiving." Brennan declared, a slight tone of fear in her voice. "I know why."

"You deal with murder everyday." Booth reminded her. "And yet a person with no obvious injuries scares you?"

"No," She responded, then she pointed at an area about ten feet away. "But they do."

Booth and Agent Bronan looked up to see what she had found. They both reluctantly turned around... Both afraid that there would be more bodies. And there were! Many little bodies. About ten dead raccoons were scattered in an area with approximately a fifteen foot radius around the dead girl.

"Animals" Brennan began to explain. "Generally hide themselves when they begin feeling weak or vulnerable. Animals that have died of natural causes are rarely just found out in the open like this. Something took them, and took them quickly."

"And it was probably same thing that took their snack." Booth finished...

"Most likely." Brennan confirmed reluctantly. "We are definitely going to have to be careful around this body..."

"I didn't know what could really kill that quickly, thus the suits..." Agent Bronan shook his head and looked mournfully at the dead raccoons. "Innocent creatures... They were in the wrong place at the wrong time and they were killed for it."

Bronan shook his head once more, then looked up at Dr. Brennan, trying to pull himself together, "What do you think happened?"

"She was most likely a hiker." Brennan told the agent. "She probably starting feeling weak, so she sat down to rest, and she never woke up. Chances are she didn't really think that it was anything serious. But, remember, nothing is definitive until we actually examine the body."

"You don't think that she was..." Booth began "Like this before she was..."

"Nothing is definitive" Brennan repeated.

"Look" Agent Bronan got their attention. "I should probably leave. The authorities can record the scene and transport the body. I am not sure I can take this for much longer..."

Bronan dialed a number on his phone as they began walking up the slope, and Brennan heard him describe her initial observations. Bronan seemed a bit worn out, tired of working, but he forced a smile regardless as he said "Thank you and good bye." to the people on the phone. They reached the top of the slope, and they walked back towards their cars where they would wait for the remaining authorities.

"But why were we called in?" Brennan asked Agent Bronan inquisitively. "She is a corpse... She has skin. She isn't decomposed beyond recognition and there doesn't appear to be foul play involved."

"This is federal property" Bronan answered, shaking his head "And for some reason, the FBI requested you specifically. "

* * *

**So………… What did you think? I am horrible with dialogue, so I tried to write this as though I was watching an episode of Bones. This is just a preview… Like the clip before the opening credits. **


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

**Disclaimer: I still don't own it. **

**I'm sorry for any inaccuracies regarding procedures or things of that sort; I researched as much as I was able, but I can't get everything prefect… I'm not even close to being out of high school yet **

**I introduced a new character, and she is slightly unoriginal, but she doesn't play a major role, so it shouldn't take too much from the story. **

* * *

"Just go and talk to her."

"I can't just go up and talk to her. I have to have something to say. How am I supposed to know the right thing to say?"

"You will think of it then. If you really like her, the words will just come to you."

"But what if I get too nervous and I can't say the words?"

Angela walked up to where Cam and Zack were sitting on the floor, looking through the rails at Cam's new slave, I mean grad student. "Are you two still stalking that poor girl?"

"It's not stalking." Cam defended. "Zack is just following her around and checking her out from afar..."

"Which is not the definition of stalking." corrected Zack, stretching his legs and preparing to stand.

"Yes, because that is _so_ much better" Angela rolled her eyes. "Anyway, you need to get off your lazy butts, we have a case."

Angela smirked, nudging the two scientists with her foot as if to emphasize her point. No pun intended. She reached out her hand to Zack, who was struggling to return to a standing position after such a long stay on the ground.

"Another pile of bones need to be identified?" Cam raised an eyebrow, placing her hand on the railing.

"Actually, according to Brennan," Angela crinkled her nose began to look disgusted. "It is still a corpse... In all of its disgusting skin-full glory."

"Just the type I like." Cam snickered slightly to herself as she had begun to stand up. "Andy!"

Cam's grad student looked up from where she was standing, her short, brown ponytail swaying as she turned her head. "Yes, Dr. Saroyan?"

"Get our things prepared! We have a case!"

The girl sighed and grumbled barely audibly, "Yes, Dr. Saroyan."

Cam turned back to Angela, eyebrows raised in her usual expression. "What were you saying?"

"Poor girl" Angela shook her head, looking down at the new young, impermanent member of their team with sincere pity. "You work her to the bone, and then you stalk her."

"No, Zack stalks her." Cam glanced at Andy with the now-standing genius grumbling something about false accusations behind her and then returned her gaze to Angela. "But we need to get going. We have a case to solve."

* * *

"It's not radiation." Brennan paced with Cam at her side as they joined and walked towards the table to prepare. She handed the pathologist a mask, much to the receiver's dismay. "They tested the radiation right after we arrived there, and it was not out of the normal range, but you should still be extremely careful when handling this."

"Why do these masks have to be so uncomfortable?" Brennan could tell Cam was scrunching up her nose after placing the mask around her neck and across her face, even though it was covered. She pulled it off slightly. "And this new type smells so bad. I hate these things."

"But you do wear a mask for your autopsies, right?" Andy had the tone of a mother lecturing her children as she questioned her new teacher. "Right, Dr. Saroyan?"

"Of-Of course." Cam quickly changed the subject, assuming the command role once more. "Has the body been photographed all over?" Cam waited for a nodd. "Positive? Good."

"There is very light bruising around the wrists." Brennan noticed, leaning forward. "It might be nothing, but everything must be noted. She also appears to have been bleeding lightly from the ears and nose..."

"The larynx does not appear to be damaged. Hyoid is intact." Zack noted, leaning over the body. "She wasn't likely strangled."

"There is a small mark here." Brennan squinted closely at the arm. "She might have accidentally pricked herself, and it may have become infected. It could be worth looking into."

"Look at her." Cam sighed, eyes searching up and down the body. "There isn't much else to look into."

"Cam, get a fingerprint and run it against the FBI database." Brennan ordered, "Zack, when Cam is finished, x-ray the body. I am going to give the picture to Angela so that she can run it through the missing person database."

Brennan spun quickly around and marched off to Angela's office, leaving the others behind just gaping.

"I'm sorry if this seems rude," Andy began, eyes aimed at her superior. "But I thought they said that you were in charge around here, Dr. Saroyan."

"Don't worry about it." Cam smirked, snapping the horrid mask off her face. "They told me the same lie."

* * *

Brennan began walking towards Angela's office, slightly annoyed, yet intrigued by the current case... This was more of Cam's area of expertise, and as much as she wanted to deny it, Brennan knew that there wasn't very much she could do. She stepped into Angela's darkened office and searched the nothingness for her best friend.

"Angela?" Brennan called, glancing around, wondering whether it would be a mistake to turn on the light.

"Damn." Brennan heard Angela mutter from where she was sitting on the floor. "Wake up. She found us."

Angela nudged Hodgins in the ribs and he barely stirred and then murmured, without taking his head off of Angela's shoulder, "Five more minutes..."

Brennan seemed to disregard that."There are samples waiting for you at your station."

Hodgins sleepily glared at Brennan, and lifted his head.

"Two more minutes?" He asked pleadingly.

"This is very important." Brennan replied, her tone very serious and earnest. "It should be done as soon as possible."

Hodgins stood up slowly, stumbling slightly, and helped Angela up, too tired to fight with Brennan. It could wait until he was conscious enough to put up a good fight. He pecked Angela on the lips and casting one last dirty look at Brennan, he reluctantly left the room.

"I have a picture for you to run against the Missing Person Database." Brennan handed Angela the picture, no sympathy in her voice. "She doesn't appear to have been out there for more than a day, so I wouldn't be surprised if I didn't receive a match."

"Was that really necessary?" Angela asked, sighing. "Waking him up like that?"

"You are not supposed to sleep on the job." Brennan stated matter-of-factly, disregarding her dilemma earlier. "And maybe he wouldn't be so tired if you actually let him sleep at night."

Was that a hint of joking in her friend's voice? Angela was taken aback for a moment, but countered as swiftly as she was able, "Speaking of sleeping at night, where's Booth?"

Brennan decided to ignore that for now. "He's with Cam... They're running the fingerprint against the FBI database."

"Look." Angela caught her friend's attention. "If you ever need to talk about things, or if you ever need someone to discuss a decision with, I'm here."

"Is this about the case?" Brennan asked, clueless to what Angela meant and how she managed to reach that particular thought. "I do get a strange feeling from it, but it doesn't look too dangerous."

"And there are some things you may not feel comfortable discussing." Angela continued, ignoring Brennan's interruption. "Just write it down... Trust me, with your job, sometimes writing it down and venting your emotions can help you stay sane."

"This is my job." Brennan stated, still unaware of anything that would bring this topic to mind, simply continuing, trusting that her friend's motives were pure. "It is something that has to be done, and involving emotions in it would make it too complicated... "

"But you don't have to detach yourself from everything..." Angela put her hand on Brennan's shoulder, sympathy filling each word spoken. "You spend your time helping the dead... But you still have the right to live."

Brennan just stared at her best friend confusedly, cocking her head slightly to one side.

"Zack said that when a person puts an open hand on your shoulder it signifies approval, but doesn't that contradict what you were saying?"

Angela just chuckled and shook her head. "That only applies to males, hon."

Angela took her hand off Brennan's shoulder and took a step towards the door, glimpsing back over her shoulder. "Now, come on. You don't want to keep a dead person waiting."

* * *

Angela sat on a couch with Hodgins' head resting on her shoulder once more... The remainder of the particulates could wait a few more minutes... She had been slightly disappointed that there were no matches from the missing person database, but it didn't matter now... Not when everything was perfect. There were many times like these, but each one meant the world, and the loss of such moments felt like the loss of a part of her being. Angela glanced up despite her reluctance to see Booth angrily walking towards where they were sitting.

"Nothing on the fingerprint." Booth muttered, obviously frustrated, running his hand through his hair.

Angela sent a disappointed glance toward the agent. "No matches on the picture either. What are we supposed to do now?"

His hands fell roughly to his sides. "Our best hope for identifying her would be putting her picture on the news."

"So we wait for someone to recognize her?" Angela asked incredulously, lifting her head and raising her eyebrows. "We just post pictures and hope that someone else can identify her?"

"That's all we can do." Booth confirmed, letting himself fall on a nearby sofa. "So now we wait."

* * *

**So….Yeah. **

**Not that great, but I promise it gets better. **

**Reviews and criticism are greatly appreciated, but if it is just to tell me that my story is unoriginal, you are not being constructive because I already know that. **


	3. Chapter 3

**It is nice to know that even if there are only about 50 of you, some people are actually reading this story... I am truly honored... I am taking the SAT tomorrow, which is unrelated to the story... I'm not even a Junior yet! I don't wanna take it. **

**So here is part three:**

* * *

"There were no broken bones." Zack recounted to Dr. Brennan as they headed towards the room in which Andy and Cam were preparing for the autopsy. "But I am pretty sure there was some very slight hemorrhaging in the brain from the blood in her ears."

"Was there any signs of trauma in the skull?" Brennan asked, stopping right outside the autopsy room to suit up.

"Nothing that stood out." Zack answered, looking through the window at Andrea, who was finishing setting up the instruments. Once fully suited up, they entered the room.

Cam glanced up from her clipboard. "Look a little bit closer at that mark. Does it look familiar to you?"

"Now that you mention it..." Brennan began, adjusting her mask before squinting closely at the body. "It looks almost like a mark from an I.V... No, no... It looks almost like a mark from a needle shoved in a little too roughly... Maybe a shot or something along those lines."

"Heroin?" Andy suggested, scooting closer towards the body. "She does show similar markers for it. Maybe she overdosed on heroin."

"Look closer, Andy." Cam instructed, "It's beginning to heal. If heroin were involved, withdrawal would be our main suspect, but look at her. She was suffering from withdrawal, so she decided to take a walk through the woods? It doesn't fit."

"Maybe her last wish was to die in the woods." Brennan suggested, slightly sarcastic, slightly serious.

"Or maybe we should do the autopsy so that we can find out for sure." Andy suggested, wondering why someone hadn't thought of that earlier.

"Have you taken hair samples for toxicology?" Cam asked.

"Of course." Andy gave a slightly competitive smile, which Cam reflected.

Cam made a Y-shaped incision into the body, exposing the insides. Blood was everywhere. There was not supposed to be this much blood when cutting into a body. 'Definite internal bleeding,' Andy wrote on the infamous clipboard. Cam picked up the shears and sawed through the ribs on the lateral sides of the chest cavity. Cam lifted the chest cavity out of the body in one piece, exposing the heart and lungs to the occupants of the room.

"She looks healthy..." Brennan noticed. "But why is there so much blood? Gravity and the lack of a heartbeat normally stop a person from bleeding so much during an autopsy."

Cam and Andy both gave Brennan a look that said very clearly, "We're the pathologists here, we know that already."

Cam examined the digestive tract for any signs of organ damage, examining each organ meticulously. Nothing particularly stood out... No ulcers... Cam paused when she looked at the liver...

"Andy, look at this." She ordered.

"Slight necrosis of the liver." Andy noted, squinting even closer at the organ "Is it an infection?"

"It doesn't appear to be." Cam answered. "And I don't see any scar tissue or puncture wounds, so the chance that it is an injury is very slim."

Cam moved further up on the torso to the heart and lungs. She opened the pericardial sac, allowing her to view the heart. She removed a small bit of blood from the pulmonary veins that could later be used for chemical analysis.

Zack vaguely heard Dr. Brennan making side notes to him as the autopsy began to progress. The absence of obvious physically wounding or scar tissue didn't seem so important... Why were him and Dr. Brennan here anyway? Was there any purpose? Cam was the forensic pathologist... Then it really wasn't completely essential for him to pay attention... Zack began to drift off into the world of his thoughts, only catching the most obvious of details...

"Look at that blood..." Andy caught the others attention, "It is not nearly as viscous as it should be..."

"That, and it's brown." Cam said sarcastically. "Look, Andy, don't try so hard to notice the small details, you might miss the obvious ones..."

For some reason that he could not comprehend, Zack felt a light stream of anger flow throughout him as he looked sympathetically at Andy.

"Yes" Andy felt ashamed of being lectured, though she hadn't said it only because she didn't want to state the obvious. "I understand, Dr. Saroyan."

Cam opened the pulmonary artery and examined it very closely, sighing slightly.

"No clots." Cam turned to Andy. "Do you know what to do next?"

"Cut the pulmonary veins, inferior vena cava, superior vena cava, and pulmonary artery." Andy felt a rush of pride as Cam did exactly that. "Now remove the heart."

"Very good." Cam praised her grad student. She lifted the heart out of the girl's chest, allowing access to the left lung. She carefully sliced through the bronchus, artery, and vein at the hilum. She slowly lifted the left lung out and repeated the same procedure with the right.

"The lungs are filled with blood." Brennan noted, who often had to resort to stating the obvious when they walked into Cam's territory.

Zack was jerked out of his own imaginary world that had been becoming rather familiar territory as of lately. He took his eyes off Andy, and he shut himself off from that world within his head again.

"Nobody ever just dies simply of heart failure any more..." Cam complained slightly. "Of course not, they have to make it hard on us..."

"I doubt they do that intentional-" Brennan began.

"She was just joking with us, Dr. Brennan" Andy clarified. "Also, from this point forward, we are just going to be removing the organs and examining them more closely. There really is not a reason for you to stay here unless you want to. You and Dr. Addy can leave anytime you would like."

Brennan turned to Zack. "She's right. We should check on the others to see if they have found anything helpful."

"Oh." Cam looked up, suddenly remembering. "Could one of you please drop off the blood samples for me?"

Andy looked up at where the two were standing and smiled weakly.

"I will." Zack volunteered, without knowing why.

"That's great." Cam said unenthusiastically. "I'm sorry, but we do have work left to do here."

The two anthropologists exited the room, and walked off to clean up.

* * *

"There was some petechia from broken capillaries on her stomach and arms." Brennan began. "And the liver had necrosis, or cell death. There was an unusual amount of bleeding. The blood was very thin and looked very... Brown."

Angela scrunched up her nose. "I just asked how she died. I didn't want the details."

"Wait a minute." Hodgins stepped out from nowhere, walking towards where Dr. Brennan was sitting with Angela and Booth. "Were her lungs filled with blood?"

"Yes..." Brennan cast an odd, suspicious look at Hodgins. "Why?"

"I know what this is." Jack Hodgins assumed his signature it's-a-conspiracy look. "That's the Ebola virus. The government is trying to develop a way to use it as biological warfare... Those bastards! I knew it! They've been taking stray people off the streets and injecting them with the virus to try to create a better, stronger virus."

Booth just stared back with a slightly frustrated look. "One slight problem: she was found in the woods, not on the streets."

"Perfect place to hide a body." Hodgins explained. "What are the chances of somebody finding the body there?"

Brennan saw Angela slightly smirk as she muttered quietly, "Apparently pretty high."

Hodgins smiled at his lover, proud that his sarcasm was rubbing off on her. He sat down next to Angela, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. He leaned into her, awaiting a time when Brennan and Booth would go off to fight the bad guys, leaving them alone together. Brennan looked at her friends, completely unaware of the thoughts passing between them, and began her explanation.

"The Ebola virus is generally found in underdeveloped areas of Africa, where medical care isn't as available, such as in third world countries." Brennan explained. "The only outbreak of the Ebola virus in the United States was in a laboratory in Virginia among monkeys."

They vaguely began to hear the sounds of the phone ringing in the background. They all looked around at each other fiercely before after four rings, Hodgins surrendered the war. "Fine! Don't everybody rush to get it at once."

Angela stared mournfully as Hodgins stalked off angrily to answer the phone. She turned back towards Brennan and Booth, trying to hide her expression.

"She probably wasn't even from the United States." Brennan told Booth and Angela. "She was most likely just visiting from Africa."

"But she's..." Booth began, unsure of how to put it.

"There are light-skinned people in Africa as well as dark-skinned." Brennan told him. "And for all that we know at the moment, maybe she was on vacation, maybe she was a nurse over there, maybe she just immigrated here. Maybe she was from outside of Africa. It would be almost impossible to tell based on this limited information."

"So do you think we should run her picture against immigration?" Booth suggested.

They all looked absent-mindedly around at each other, as though in the silence of the room, the questions in their head would answer themselves.

Brennan's eyes widened. "If this disease were to spread around, it may become unstoppable... What is this girl passed it on to someone else? Maybe we should check around at local hospitals to see if there have been any outstanding cases?"

"I don't think so." Hodgins walked up, an arrogant smile spread across his face.

The others looked up at him, hoping for anything. Simply waiting for his explanation, not knowing that his response could change the direction of the entire case.

"Isn't this a nice 'coincidence?'" The woman on the phone said that she recognized the girl."

* * *

**Reviews are nice ways for me to learn what I am doing wrong, so they are much appreciated... Truly, I am honored that you are reading my fanfic at all.**

I had to do a lot of research for this chapter... It was too interesting to have been in vain XD


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own it and I never will. **

**This chapter is quite unoriginal, even for me, but my lovely beta (no, not my sister's fish, Budweiser) liked it. **

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Booth pulled Brennan closer to him and wrapped an arm around her waist as they walked through the crowded street.

Brennan turned her head, and looked up at him. "I can protect myself."

"No way." Booth declared solidly, shaking his head. "You have no idea what goes on in these streets."

"As an anthropologist..." Brennan began, looking up at the street signs for where they needed to turn. "It is my job to study different cultures; I probably understand more about the streets than you do."

Booth sighed, and muttered in a frustrated manner, "Why can't you just shut up and let me protect you for once?"

A silence passed between the two of them as they continued walking briskly down the street. Booth subtly moved behind Brennan as they made a turn around a corner and worked their way through the hustle and bustle. Despite Booth's warnings, the walk was very uneventful... But then, Brennan stopped suddenly in front of him.

"Are you sure this is the right address?" Brennan asked, looking confusedly at the building to their left.

"That's what it says on the paper." Booth shrugged his shoulders. He smirked slightly. "Besides, this isn't the first time a person has asked us to talk to them at their work."

"No, it isn't..." She agreed... "But this is the first time that their work was at a strip club."

* * *

"You must be Dr. Brennan and Agent Booth." The woman bowed slightly. "I am Jolene Reese. I am a waitress here."

Brennan just stared at the woman... She looked like she was probably about twenty-five or twenty-six, but her demeanor made her appear much younger. Her curly dark-brown hair was pulled back sloppily with a butterfly clip, and her tight-fitting dark blue shirt shone as the light reflected off the orange sparkles. She wore a pair of short orange shorts, and her knee-high tights went right along with the rest of her, the UVA symbol completing the ensemble. The only thing that looked out of place was her solemn expression.

The girl led them to a back room of the bar, and pulled out the chairs for them at a table. She nodded for them to sit down, and Brennan slid the picture across the table.

"Are you sure that you know this girl?" Brennan asked, "What can you tell us about her?"

The young woman leaned over, and pulled a small photo out of the top of her sock, and placed it next to the other photo. Three faces smiled up from the picture, Jolene in the middle, with a tall man clad in a baseball uniform to her left with his arm resting on her shoulder, and the small blonde girl stood to the right, holding up two fingers in a peace sign. Orange dust floated around them from the diamond of clay behind them.

"Her name is Crystal." A mournful smile passed across the young woman's face as she slowly lifted her head to look at Brennan and Booth. "Crystal Lee... I always used to joke on her about that..."

Jolene shook her head lightly, and Booth saw the tears in her eyes threatening to spill.

"How did you know her?" Brennan asked, knowing that the questions had to be answered, regardless.

"I was her second mother..." Jolene chuckled lightly as the first tear made a path down her cheek. "She began working here about three and a half years ago... She got a job with the help of a fake ID... I knew something was wrong as soon as I saw her ID. Why would anyone her age fake an ID to work here? Nobody _wants_ to work here... We're all here out of necessity... So I followed her home that first night..."

She turned away, wiping the tears from her face with the side of her pale hands. "I never would have expected to find that she didn't have one."

She shook her head, and looked down at her lap. "Her family was very poor... They- they couldn't afford to feed her and her sisters... She was forced to quit school when she was sixteen in order to get a full time job, but even that wasn't quite enough... Her parents... They forced her out onto the streets when she was only seventeen. It was so horrible, and yet... She never would say a bad thing about them..."

Jolene looked up, making eye contact with Brennan. "I invited her to stay with me... For a night, a week, a month... As long as she needed. I know that was naive of me, but there was something about her... Something that made me trust her..."

"Do you know where her family lives?" Brennan asked. "Do you know the address?"

Jolene leaned forward and scribbled down a jumble of numbers and letters that reinforced her childish nature. "I'm sorry... I never was truly great at writing... This is where they used to live. They moved about a year ago. They- How could they? They were able to move into a better neighborhood, but they never searched for her... They never tried to get her back... And yet, everyday, Crystal would brag to me, 'Isn't my family the greatest?' She... She understood more about the world than people with a PhD would ever be able to know... She boasted about how much stronger her family was than most... She said that no other family she knew would have been able to do the right thing. She had four little sisters, and her parents had to make the choice of whether all of them would be out on the street or just her... She was glad that her sisters would be okay even if she wasn't."

"She sounds like she was a nice person." Booth said, with not nearly enough emotion in his voice to convince Jolene he really meant it.

"Crystal..." Jolene wiped more tears from her face with a tissue, which she pulled out from who-knows-where, and she began to stare down into her lap "She never cared about herself... Her parents made what could have been a horrible mistake--they forgot that she still had access to their bank account. She could have taken what little money they did have, but she never would think of doing that... She would keep track of how much money they had in the account, and whenever she thought they were having money troubles, she would deposit some of her own money into the account..."

Booth began to absent-mindedly twirl his pen around as he struggled to pay attention, waiting, searching for anything in her words that might be a hint as to what may have happened...

"She always wanted to go back to school... All she ever wanted to do was help others, but she always just saw herself as a burden... She began working at the 'other' side of this place... She wanted to move out on her own, and as much as I wanted her to stay, I knew it was something she had to do... She tried to save up as much money as possible to be able to live on her own and go to school..." Jolene looked back up at them.

By this point, Brennan was becoming rather intrigued by the girl's story, and she could barely hold back her curiosity. "Did she ever manage to move out on her own?"

"She did... She had just turned twenty-one... It was only about five months ago..." Jolene smiled weakly through her tears. "I hated it. I missed her so much... Even if I did get to see her here nearly everyday... She made enough money to be able to afford a small apartment, plus the necessities... But at the beginning of this month, they threatened to evict her because she couldn't afford it... She never mentioned them raising the rent or lowering her pay, but..."

A look of dawning passed across the young woman's face, and her head fell into her hands.

Brennan confusedly looked at her, "What? What was it?"

"She mentioned a few weeks ago that her family was having some money troubles..." The streams on her cheeks turned to rivers as she looked back up. "She gave too much of her own money to her family."

Booth tried his hardest to be patient with the girl, understanding how difficult it was to lose someone that was almost too close. He sent a sympathetic look towards her, silently urging her to continue. She looked up at him, and he felt the pain flowing through her...

"Two weeks ago, she... She told me that she was going to go away for a while... She said that a man offered to pay her quite a bit of money to spend the week with him... I didn't think anything of it, because that isn't unusual in the-- the 'other' side, but I... I wish... I wish that I had been suspicious..."

She could barely string together the words between the sniffles... "That... was the last... time I ever... saw her..."

Booth stopped twirling his pen and subconsciously sat up a bit straighter. "Do you know his name? Did she say what he looked like?"

Jolene wiped her face once more with her mysterious tissue from nowhere. "She said that he looked very... Nice. She didn't tell me" Sniffle "Much more than that... She said he walked with a limp... He had to use a cane... But he was still young..."

"Do you know how young?" Booth asked, finally receiving information he could actually use.

"She... She guessed about 30... She said that he looked very kind... But he had a bad limp..." Jolene looked pleadingly at Booth, then at Brennan. "Please, did she suffer?"

"She most likely only felt like she had the flu," Brennan began. "But we can't tell all of what happened before she died or confi-"

"She looked very peaceful when we found her." Booth interrupted. He shook her hand lightly one more time and bowed slightly. "Thank you for your time. Is there anyone else that could be helpful?"

"Our boss might have known the man." Jolene's sobs began to slow. "I'm glad that I was able to help Crystal..."

"You aren't technically helping her, she's de-"

Booth cut Brennan off with a look and led her into the main part of the club.

* * *

"You were awfully rude to her." Brennan pointed out as they walked through the loosely crowded bar.

"Yeah, well, we weren't exactly looking for the details of a murder." Booth retorted, a hint of frustration in his voice. "We were just supposed to go in there, get details of how she got out in the woods and how she may have got the disease, then left. And did we get ANY of that done? No."

"You still could have been more polite to her." Brennan smirked as she looked up at him... Oh, the irony... "And technically speaking, it's a virus."

Booth scrunched up his eyebrows in confusion. "Where did that come from?"

"You said 'disease,' but it is a virus."

"Whatever..." Booth muttered, setting off to find the boss. "Let's just go find this guy."

* * *

Brennan glanced up at the door. It said management, but it didn't really seem that way. The door had several chips of paint missing and looked as though someone had not sanded it down properly. Booth pushed open the door.

"FBI." Booth 'introduced' himself... "We've been told you might have some information for us."

Brennan looked over at the man sitting behind the desk covered with clutter. She could tell before he even stood up that he was a rather short, slightly plump man. His thinning dark brown hair was just long enough to fall in his eyes and he stood up. He gestured towards the chairs in front of his desk, silently asking them to take a seat.

"Do you recognize this girl?" Booth slid the picture he pulled from his pocket towards the man.

"Of course I recognize her." The man looked up at the two as though they were crazy. "She used to work here, of course I would know her."

"Used to?" Brennan asked, cocking her head very slightly.

"She just stopped showing up to work about two weeks ago." The man replied with and oddly unsuspecting tone.

Booth thought back to what Jolene had told them... "You don't know why?"

"It happens." The man shrugged his shoulders. "Girls come, girls leave. It isn't my job to know why."

Brennan stood up and glowered down at the man. "Do you know what happens to girls out there? I have seen more than my share of gruesome things done to women who were just trying to make a little bit of money. But you... You make your living off of objectifying these girls, treating them like items that can be bought and thrown away whenever you decide to. Don't their lives matter as well? How can you live with yourself, knowing what you have done to these unfortunate women?"

Booth tried to pull Brennan, who was fuming with anger, back down into her seat, but she wouldn't budge.

Suddenly, the man stood up and looked into her face. "I'm sorry, miss. I think you're the one who is mistaken. You live up there on your pedestal, you can't possibly know what it is like out here."

"As a forensic anthropologist," Brennan began. "I have been to some of the poorest places on Earth. I know what it is like to live without proper care. Without material goods."

"You can't possibly know." The man replied simply. "Everywhere you go, you always have the comfort of knowing you will be returning eventually to your world of luxury. These girls don't have that world. This is a haven for my girls. They will come here to make a few bucks, and leave a few days later. Sometimes it is for food, sometimes it's for rent. It doesn't matter to me. I help these girls when they are at their lowest. When they think they can't make it to tomorrow, I give them what they need to survive. I'm sorry, but you will never know what a horrible place life truly is for them."

Brennan slowly calmed down, sinking back into her seat.

The man mirrored her actions, and then began to speak again. "Look, I'm sorry I can't be of help. That girl... Crystal... Is she... Dead?"

Booth nodded solemnly. "I'm sorry."

"Poor Jolene... That girl was her life." The man shook his head. "Was she smiling?"

"Jolene?" Brennan asked, eyebrows raised.

"No, Crystal." The man looked at her. "Did she die a happy girl?"

Brennan opened her mouth, but Booth silenced her with a look, and answered "She looked as though she was just taking a nap."

"I'm glad she can be as happy in death as she was in life." The man managed a small smile before saying "goodbye," and sending them on their way.

* * *

Angela sat on the chair in her office, half asleep. Last night had been another late night... And early morning... Her head drooped uncharacteristically onto the back of the chair and she began to fade into unconsciousness, until...

"Guess who?" Angela felt a pair of gentle hands cover her eyes.

"You're funny." She replied sarcastically, as she stood up and walked to her lover. "But looks aren't everything."

"Ooh..." He feigned annoyance, taking her in his arms and laying a kiss on her forehead. "That hurt."

"I can make it hurt if that's what you want." Whispered Angela somewhat seductively into his ear.

"Promise?"

Angela head fell onto his chest as she began laughing. "And you claim that I'm the insane one."

"Hey, didn't you hear? They verified that girl had the Ebola virus." He released Angela as he folded his arms playfully. "Do you need to be reminded who suggested it? What do you have to say to that?"

Angela stared seriously into his eyes... It was now or never...

"I'm pregnant."

Hodgins' eyes widened to saucers and his smile fell. Did she really just say that? "Wha-What?"

"Do you really want me to say it again?" She folded her arms across her chest, still uncomfortable saying it herself.

He looked across her face, searching for any hint that she was joking, waiting for her to say that she was just kidding. But neither happened. She just stared with that same look.

"How?" He turned to her with an incredulous look upon his face. This couldn't be possible "I thought we were always careful... How could this have happened?"

"Well, they're only 99 effective" Angela futilely tried to lighten the mood. "The odds were against us."

Hodgins began pacing across the floor, trying to sort through all of the thoughts running through his mind. This is too fast... How could this happen? "What are we going to do? We aren't ready for this... I'm not ready for this..."

They each scanned the face of the other, looking for answers, but the mother-to-be was the one who finally realized there was nothing to be found.

"Look, what is important is that it has happened." Angela cast a serious look at him as she began walking towards the door of her office. "And there is nothing we can do to change that."

Hodgins ran his hand through the curls on his head, barely catching what Angela was saying, not wanting to hear any more anyway.

Angela turned around as she began to push open the door. "You can either accept it and deal with it with me, or you can run like a coward. Your choice."

She walked out the door, hoping to feel a hand on her shoulder pulling her back, silently wishing that he would come after her, but she just heard the door close behind her.

* * *

Angela silently walked towards the center of the lab, searching for Brennan, wondering if she had returned. Angela had no reason to worry... There was no doubt in her mind that Hodgins would come around... It's just... She hadn't expected him to be so... Angry? Or was he just shocked...?

'Maybe you shouldn't have brought it up so suddenly.' Argued one side of her mind.  
'He guilted me into it.' She defended herself. 'He was acting so... Wonderful... I couldn't keep it hidden any longer...'  
'But maybe you should have brought up the topic slowly. Allowed him to get used to the idea, then told him.'  
'But where's the fun in that?'  
'Not having to deal with --"

Angela's thoughts were interrupted by a female scream coming from the lounge.

"Help! Somebody, anybody, HELP!"

* * *

Zack searched the lab, trying to find Andy. After he had returned with the results of the blood tests, he had run into Hodgins, who had told him that Andy was looking for him... He wondered why... Maybe she had needed help from someone who had been here longer, but didn't want to ask Dr. Brennan or Dr. Saroyan. Maybe Hodgins was trying to play a prank on him. Again. Part of Zack wondered why he consistently fell for Hodgins' tricks... Was it hope that one day Hodgins would be telling the truth? Or just trust?

Nevertheless, he kept walking, searching. He heard a faint banging sound, and curious, he walked to the sound.

"It's not the soda machine's fault." Zack pointed out as he found Andy kicking the side of the demonic machine. "They have been known to malfunction and not give people their soda."

Andy smirked and shook her head before resting it against the possessed piece of machinery. "Nothing in this lab likes me. Not the machine. Not the people. Not Dr. Saroyan."

Zack felt a slight rumbling in his stomach... Maybe he was wrong to trust the breakfast Hodgins had made. "Machines don't have emotions and can't like nor dislike any particular person."

"And yet even it is criticizing me." Andy let out a small laugh. "I can't do anything right, can I? No... They have to correct everything I do... I could do something perfectly, but they would still manage to make something up. Just because I don't have as much experience as them doesn't mean I am a complete idiot."

"They are just trying to help." Zack tried to take a step towards the girl, but his legs began to feel as though they had turned to jelly. "In comparison to them, you know very little about these areas."

"I'm sorry, Dr. .Addy." She sighed as she looked up at Zack. "But you can't possibly know what this is like. They are always pointing out obvious things to me, as though I am little kid... And Dr. Saroyan... She bosses me around like I am her personal servant. 'Do this, do that!' It's annoying! Why can't she do anything herself?!"

"I do know what it's like." Zack's head began to feel as though it was spinning, but he tried to ignore it, hoping it would just leave. "I was Dr. Brennan's grad student. Hodgins told me that they just treated me that way because they liked me. And you can call me Zack."

"You know?" Andy sent a small smile in his direction. "You are the first one who tried to make me feel like I belong here... Thank you, Zack... Zack? Zack?!"

Zack stared blankly as he began to lose his balance. The whole world was a cyclone around him, getting darker and darker until he was gone from the conscious world.

Andy caught Zack as he fell forward, shaking the genius slightly to try to wake him. She sat on the floor with his head in her lap. "Help! Somebody, anybody, HELP!"

**

* * *

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

**So... He was only sick... You thought Zack liked her? HA! I'm a Cam/Zack fan all the way, baby. Sorry, the 'baby' thing is kinda a reflex. XD**


	5. Chapter 5

**So…. Not as good as the last chapter, but here it is. And thank you so much for reading!!**

Brennan walked into a waiting room, confused as to what had just happened... Just as she had finished up the questioning with Booth, she had received a phone call from Cam telling her that Zack had passed out and was not waking up. She could hear Hodgins in the background yelling something about food poisoning, but Cam had shushed him, saying that it was probably just a stomach virus and that he had thrown up earlier that morning. That was all Brennan had been told over the phone, so she had almost no idea of what to expect.

Cam and Andy both were standing by the wall, waiting anxiously for the doctor to tell them that Zack had woken up and was fine.

Hodgins was sitting down with a worried Angela in his lap, all problems oversome by worry, trying to convince her that Zack was fine, though he was thinking just the opposite.

Booth, seeing immediately that none of the others knew any more than he did, just walked to a chair to wait.

--

After a half-hour of waiting, Brennan had convinced her colleagues-- no, her friends--that being close to Zack would not change the situation, and their time would be best spent working on their case...

But that wasn't working out very well. Brennan unintentionally kept glancing up from her work over to where Zack normally stood. Angela clung to Hodgins, keeping the two of them from accomplishing anything... And Andy... Andy had become deaf to the world. She heard not a word anyone said, and had become distracted to the point that she was a nuisance.

This wouldn't work at all. Cam looked around at them, shaking her head, sighing slightly before assuming her command. Man, why couldn't they cooperate?

"Look!" She stood straight, annoyed, ten feet tall, dominating the others. "We can't just keep sitting down because our comrade has fallen. This isn't the worst thing that has ever happened here; hell, this isn't even the worst thing that has happened here this year. People get sick; it happens. This is no different than any other sick day."

"That girl was 'just sick'" Hodgins pointed out, a slight tone of regret in his voice. "And yet she died. Zack didn't feel bad until she arrived."

Booth saw in his eyes more than what had been said, so he asked in a rather unsympathetic tone. "You know something, don't you?"

"Well, I made him breakfast this morning..." Hodgins began, shame evident in his voice. "And I put a little bit of laxative in his food. Just a little bit, I swear... I didn't think it was even enough to have an effect... But it might have brought this on. I didn't even know he was feeling bad this morning..."

"I highly doubt a small amount would cause this much danger." Brennan noted reassuringly, but continued, a darker tone flooding her voice. "But when did he get sick? When she arrived."

"He could not have contracted the virus from the girl." Cam assured, trying to convice some of the most stubborn people in the world. "We were all very careful when examining her body, and the ebolavirus is not airborne. He would have had to directly take in the virus."

"I don't know, Zack wasn't paying very much attention when you were cutting open the body," Brennan pointed out. "And he was the one who took the blood for testing."

Cam sighed and tried to form her argument...

"Look! Do you remember when the Gravedigger had Brennan and Hodgins? (Sorry for bringing this up)." Cam asked, unable to find a reply for the anthropologist's last statement. "We were all frustrated and thought it was hopeless."

The others sighed, preparing themselves for another lecture from their leader, Booth leaning against a chair, twirling a toothpick with his teeth...

"This is nothing like that." She grinned as she looked around at their shocked expressions. "There is no danger here. Nothing we do here will make him any better or worse. It was thanks to Zack that you two were not stuck underneath all that earth longer. What would Zack say if he saw you all sitting around worrying unecessarily? He worked to help you, so now it is your job to help the girl."

Each rather guilty countenance in the audience turned down, save for the F.B.I. agent who had long since tuned out, having heard it all thousands of times before.  


Andy was pulled from her reverie as her mentor silently encouraged her to continue the speech. She glanced around at the others, noticing the confusion passing across every squint face. She needed a way to summarize and reinforce what Dr. Saroyan had said, but also get their squint bodies back to working... She shrugged inwardly as she decided to try the same method any 5-year-old would.

Andy stuck her arm out, palm down, and grinned competitively at the others. "So are you in or are you out?"

Her hand was quickly covered by that of Hodgins. "I'm definitely in, one hundred percent, man."

A hand only slightly smaller with red painted nails was placed overtop his. Angela's face reflected Andy's expression. "There's not much I can do, but I'm in."

"Anything for the team." Cam's hand soon joined the pile.

Brennan looked around questioningly at the others. "How do I join?"

The pathologist looked down at the floor and put her hand that was not in the pile in a fist against her face to hide her snickering. She returned her gaze to Bones and breathing in deeply, she told the socially inept, "Just put your hand in the pile."

All eyes then turned to Booth. "No. This is your own freaky little squint thing; don't get me involved.

Four glares were sent in his direction, and he finally gave in. "Fine, but I won't be happy about it."

All hands were now in the stack, Booth's head turned away as if pretending he was anywhere else.

"Now we have to yell something." Hodgins shrugged his shoulders, understanding the pregame ritual. "'Teamwork' is good for me."

Angela waved her hand nonchalantly. "I say we yell 'Ninjas.'"

"My vote is for 'Ninjas.'" Brennan sided with her best friend.

Booth, his head still turned away, mumbled, "Why not 'Pirates?'"

"Or..." Cam caught their attention. "We could yell something normal. What about 'For Zack?'"

The squint squad all nodded in agreement reluctantly, so she continued. "On the count of three: one, two, three."

"For Zack!"

The odd looks from passerbys went unnoticed by the newly energized team.

--

Thirty minutes later, Booth walked in to find Brennan staringly blankly at a computer screen, clicking occasionally. She turned around in her chair when she heard him enter, eyes burning.

"Nothing on the address yet?" Booth questioned his partner who had been searching without any breaks for the past half hour.

"It's not that I'm finding nothing..." Brennan sighed. "I've found many addresses, but none would make sense... "

Booth took a step towards the tired anthropologist as she stood up and attempted to stretch out her sleeping limbs, almost stumbling from the change of position. This case was truly more trouble than it was worth, but it takes all kinds. Everyone deserved a break from the grotesque deaths normally seen in the Jeffersonian lab. A simple calculate-time-of-death, locate-family, and find-cause case may be just the vacation needed to keep the squint squad sane.

"There were seven results in this that are based on different variations of the address." Brennan yawned, covering her mouth and carefully sitting back down onto her chair before Booth had a chance to steal it. "Two are the homes of elderly couples who have been there since Kennedy went into office, three are empty lots, and two more are businesses."

Booth looked seriously at his partner who had been seraching so hard for so long. "Do you think that Jolene girl is trying to play with us?"

Brennan raised her eyebrows in question while Booth pulled a chair up next to hers, "I try not to jump to conclusions."

"There was no match on the name." He massaged his forehead slightly. "No babies were born on the birthdate we were given with the name Crystal Lee in this city, and Jolene mentioned that the girl had lived here her whole life, even when she was a baby."

"If we can get a match on the address," Brennan began, trying to sound comforting. "We will be able to track down her family."

Booth grabbed the napkin onto which the girl's friend had written the address, and glanced over it. "We need Zack here... This is in a different language."

"I've tried every variation that would make sense." Brennan raised her eyebrows for emphasis. "It is completely illegible."

"Hmm." Booth squinted closely at the jumble of letters and words. "Is that supposed to be a seven or a two?"

"I've tried both." She looked at the letter without any more of an idea as to what it could be. "Maybe it is a backwards six."

"It could be anything." The grown man felt as though he was attempting to translate a kindergartener's first words on paper into English. "You might as well try it, Bones."

There was a tapping of keys, then a result popped up on the screen.

"This better be it." Brennan eyed the result. "Going through tax records was not a cakewalk."

Booth ogled his partner, the surprise clear on his face. "You know what a cake walk is?"

"I was a child once, too." There was more typing and mouse clicking. "Owned by Ms. Claudia Jackson... Currently rented to Mr. and Mrs. Cliff Huxtable."

"Onto the next one?" Booth sighed and dropped into chair he had placed beside the one in which Brennan sat and swung his feet up unto the desk, leaning back.

"Not yet." Scrolling down, without ever turning her aching eyes from the screen, Bones lightly shoved the feet off the desk. "It says Ms. Jackson has only owned it for several months; before, it was owned by..."

Booth hated the suspense he was forced to endure as she scrolled farther down.

"Mr. and Mrs. Charles Lee."

--

Hodgins stood over his microscope, viewing his first true love: insects. They were so small, yet they spoke volumes, and more often than not could tell the story of the aftermath of a death. There had been very little insect activity, but Jack knew his bugs, slime, and plants. He checked over and over again, each attempt producing the same answer. He caught a movement out of the corner of his eye as he stood straight up.

"Andy?"

"Yes, Dr. Hodgins?" Andy still spoke with the same polite, temperate tone she used when talking with those she would rather not, such as her mentor.

He recognized immediately that tone, having used it many, many times himself at 'parties' for the Cantilever group. No sense forcing her to talk to him. "Do you know where I could find Cam?"

"She is most likely still checking the stomach contents and determining time of death." The new and temporary member of the team still held back anything other than simply the facts, having no desire to be anything more than a student, learning then leaving. "You found something interesting?"

Hodgins looked back into her face and smiled as he was walking off to search for his boss. "Depends on how you define 'interesting.'"

Jack knew many things about what he did, but what fascinated him the most was that nothing was ever definite. Science varies. It takes logic to put the pieces together, and even so, there was a chance the piece was placed in the wrong spot. Just like a seven hundred and fifty-piece puzzle with no outside edge and five extra pieces, there were many mistakes to be made and hundreds of different places to start, some more beneficial than others, but with a close enough eye and complete concentration, the picture begins to put itself together. There may be little sections lost in the process, 

maybe the central part, maybe just an unimportant side detail, but with an intuitive leap, the mind's eye could fill in any gaps. This case didn't fit his definition. This was like tyring to fit in a piece into the already complete Jigsaw; it wasn't working.

"Hodgins?" A voice called out, echoing in the nearly empty lab.

"Just the lady I was looking for." Hodgins walked into Cam's office, where she sat, filling out paperwork about the case. He grinned jokingly. "So how's the girl?"

"Dead," Retorted the boss, arising, reflecting the expression. "But otherwise all right. I expected to find severe malnutrition as a result of her low standard of living, but it was actually only slight. She tried to take good care of herself."

Hodgins stepped forward, his usual excited, proud grin spread wide across his face. "I found something interesting."

"Her last meal consisted of foods very high in cellulose and fiber which cannot be digested." Cam smirked, turning her face down towards her notes, continuing on, ignoring Hodgins' interruption. "At least some people eat their veggies."

Hodgins started to open his mouth to speak, but before he could, Cam had begun again, not bothering to so much as glance away from her papers. "There was also a great deal of protein... Most likely some form of beef."

The entymologist's annoyance was growing as he tried again to explain his discovery. "The number and type of insects suggest-"

"This last meal was consumed approximately three hours before death." Cam raised an eyebrow as she continued reading over the details she had written from her examinations and tests. "Assuming that it was dinner--"

"Are you even listening?" Hodgins' face glowed red with frustration as he failed, yet again, to convince his boss that his findings were more important.

"She likely died before midnight of the day she was found." Cam finally finished her train of thought, so she spun around to look at her irate subordinate. Her countenance showed a questioning expression as she noticed the look upon his face. Cam sighed slightly. "Is there something you would like to say?"

Hodgins let go of a breath he had not realized he was holding. "There were very few 

insects on her body, and many had not been even through one life cycle. The states of metamorphosis of the insects on her body suggest that she was out there only three to four hours before Brennan arrived, maybe two hours before she was found which means--"

"If she had died before midnight..." Realization passed across the pathologist's face as she took in the words. "Her corpse was put out in the forest a while after she died."

"And she was moved from a place with no insect activity." Hodgins grinned at the possibilities.


	6. Chapter 6

**THANK YOU SO MUCH!! I really appreciate your wonderful comments. School is rather rough right now, so it may be a while before the next chapter is written….**

* * *

Brennan scanned over the records again. Great. Nothing that could tie anyone to the body... Except some mystery man with a limp, but how did that help? Why would any man ask for her for a week if he just intended on letting her die? Was it some sick fetish? A thought dawned as she ran through the facts: they had not asked if Jolene knew his ethnicity. Maybe he was from Africa and brought the disease with him. He might have come into the country illegally which would explain why her corpse was in the woods... He wouldn't want anyone to know he was here. Maybe the guy died before she did, and an accomplice hid the body to elude the law enforcement. Brennan heard a faint sound outside of her mind and footsteps coming closer and closer.

"The odontologist found no matches on her dental records." The anthropologist glanced up from her notes as her partner entered the room. "But she probably could not afford proper dental care, so that was expected."

Booth folded his arms indignantly as he stood in front of her desk. "Don't I even merit a 'Hello, how is your day?'"

"I just saw you half an hour ago before you left to find their address." Brennan looked up at her partner matter-of-factly. "And before that I spent all of the day with you. I already know how your day was."

"No, you don't. This" Booth placed his index finger on her forehead for emphasis. "Is your oversized squint brain. Just because it knows what I did all day doesn't mean it knows how my day was. There are some things you can't tell just from examining."

The anthropologist gave an intentionally blank look in response, and brushed his finger off her face. "Did you come here to tell me something or just to provoke a pointless argument?"

Booth appeared slightly offended. "Now I have to have a reason to visit you?"

"Anthropologically speaking..." The agent sighed as Brennan began. "Humans are creatures of habit."

"And that means...?" Booth rolled his hand in a 'go on' gesture.

"It is improbable that you would come in here without a purpose." Brennan stated pragmatically. "Because you always have a reason for visiting."

"Yeah, well there has to be a first time for everything." Booth retorted with surprising logic. "A habit builds on top of that base."

"So maybe you should visit me."

"So maybe I should."

"Good."

"Good." There was a moment of silence where eye contact seemed forbidden, but then Booth continued reluctantly. "Anyway..."

Brennan threw her arms up into the air. "See? I knew you had a reason for coming here!"

"I found the place like you asked." Booth gestured towards the door. "Are you going or not?"

* * *

Flowers lined the sidewalk in the short yard leading to a porch-less house. Standing three feet apart at most, each white-paneled building was almost identical to the neighboring ones. The worn, faded "For Sale" signs decorating several yards nearby illustrated clearly the depressed real estate market in Virginia. Nobody is buying, but they still keep building.

A small girl, no more than four years old, jumped out of the bushes to greet the visitors. Her tangled blonde hair was riddled with sticks and leaves, her clothes covered with dirt. When she grinned up at Booth and Brennan, they knew in an instant they had found the right house.

"Want to see my picture?" The girl cast another toothy smile at her guests. "It's not done yet, but I have been working hard!"

Booth glanced from the child to the door. "Actually, we need to talk to your parents. Are they home?"

"It can wait a minute." Brennan felt hypnotized by the imp's grin. "Can I see it?"

Though it didn't seem possible, the smile grew, now taking over her whole face. Her hand grasped that of the older woman, dragging her between the houses to a six-foot privacy fence. The small child turned her head towards the two visitors and put a short finger on her lips. After the couple nodded, she reached her thin arm through a narrow hole in the gate, minor scratches on her arm indicating that this was definitely her first time trying that. A soft click sounded as the gate unlocked. There was a large area of sidewalk directly outside the back door covered with flowers picked from the gardens out front.

"Tabitha Michelle!"

The girl froze and her smile drooped as a loud voice from inside the house burst out. She glanced up at the two older people pleading for help. Another girl, maybe early teens, stepped out through the back door.

"I leave you alone for two minutes, and you disappear, Tabby." The older girl finally took notice of the strangers standing by her sister, and she froze. Her voice steadied and grew stern. "Tabby, come here."

The impish girl pranced over, confused by the situation, but doing as she was told. Strong arms wrapped around the shoulders of the younger girl and pulled her back. The teen turned her face back to the strangers as she tried to disguise her fear.

"Who are you?!" Her voice was strong though her hands began to shake. "I'm not going to let you take my sister!"

Brennan raised her eyebrows in question and almost laughed, "What? Why would you think we were going to take your sister?"

The girl's grip loosened, but she still held her sister back. "Then why are you here? Why are you in our yard? Who are you?"

"Relax." Booth took a small step towards the girls. "We're here to talk to your parents. It's about your sister."

"We haven't done anything, my sisters and I. We haven't done anything." She released her grip, revealing red handprints on the younger girl's arms. Her voice relaxed slightly with the rest of her body. "Who are you?"

"Seeley Booth, FBI." He held out his badge to prove his point.

The miniature blonde reached forward and touched the badge then looked up in amazement. "Wow. You're both real FBI members?"

"He is" Brennan pointed towards Booth as the little girl tilted her head in question; "I'm a forensic anthropologist. I work mostly with bones."

Booth sighed and glanced from the door to the older girl. "Listen, are your parents at home?"

"They're right inside." She took a few steps back and opened the door to welcome the strangers into the house. "I wouldn't have allowed her outside if they weren't."

Booth stepped over and placed one foot inside the door before noticing Brennan wasn't following. In the same place, she stood, not moving, arms still folded. Booth's eyebrows raised, and he gestured towards the door, but no movement resulted. Cast at her once more was another strong impatient glance. Brennan simply shrugged, palms raised as though he was supposed to know. No movements resulted on either side. Brennan still stood, arms still folded, eyes still steady.

"Fine." One last impatient sigh of surrender escaped the lips of the agent. "You can go with her, but I am going inside and doing my job."

Each word was spoken slowly, each emphasized, each dripping with annoyance.

* * *

The couple sat across from each other at the kitchen table, clutching their cups of coffee, newspapers scattered between the two. They barely moved their heads as the stranger entered. Worn were their faces from life, wrinkles deep though their hair was not yet white. Finally the change in surroundings registered in their minds, and they started. From the stranger to their daughter theirs eyes wandered back and forth confusedly.

The woman slowly rose from her chair and grabbed his hand, shaking it lightly. "I am Annette, and this is my husband, Charlie. Please excuse the mess. I wasn't expecting company."

The man named Charlie reached out his hand and shook that of the larger man. "And you would be?"

"Special agent Seeley Booth, FBI." He glanced at the door then averted his gaze back to the couple. "My partner will be in soon." Sigh. "Hopefully."

As though summoned, in she walked, the young girl still dragging Dr. Brennan by the wrist as Booth and the parents migrated to the living room. Another wide grin spread across the face of the little girl. "These are my parents."

"I'm Dr. Brennan." Her hand reached out to the woman and grasped the hand that went out in response. "I'm a forensic anthropologist."

The father absorbed the words, then he turned towards his older daughter. "I think you should take Tabitha outside to play."

The youngest sat down in protest, but the light child was not difficult to lift. Amid screams, the older girl carried her sister through the kitchen into the backyard. The eyes of the woman followed the girls as they left, and she returned her gaze to the guests as soon as she knew the children were out of earshot.

"Forensic?" The voice of the mother lowered almost to a whisper. "Did something happen?"

"I have to ask you something." Booth paused for a second for dramatic effect. "When was the last time you saw your oldest daughter?"

Brows furrowed in confusion on the foreheads of the parents. The mother raised one brow before speaking. "What do you mean? She just left right then."

From the couple to Brennan, Booth's eyes scanned for an answer. His gaze shifted back to the couple, and he spoke slowly. "I think my partner and I need to talk."

Booth stood and stepped into the kitchen which provided very little, if any, privacy. Brennan followed, no sense of importance evident in her demeanor. She folded her arms impatiently. "What?"

"I think we have the wrong house."

"Why?"

"Because they don't have any older children." Booth stood his ground, arms folded, a reflection of the stance of the anthropologist. "And Jolene said Crystal had four younger sisters, not two."

"Did you even see those two girls?" Passion, supported by confidence, filled Brennan's voice. "They share many of the same features with our victim. It is obvious the girls are related. The parents must be lying."

Booth sighed. "I'll call and ask someone to check the names to see if they have any older children. You can go talk to them if you want, but don't mention the victim. We don't need to get this family involved needlessly."

* * *

"I'm sorry." Brennan returned to sit down on the sofa. "He needs to make a phone call."

"Oh, it's no problem." The woman smiled, but her smile shrunk slightly. "I'm sorry if this seems too forward, but may I ask why you are here?"

"We think you might be relevant to an investigation." Photographs on the nearby table caught Brennan's eye. "You have other children?"

"Yes..." The woman smirked, her husband dozing off beside her. "The other two are upstairs asleep. We aren't very specific about the time they wake up over the summer. With the two of us working up to twelve or fourteen hours five days a week, it is very difficult to keep a tight leash on them. The twins--they're sleeping now-- turned eight last month, so they watch themselves most of the time, but Tabby... She is so volatile. None of my other children were so hard to control at that age."

Brennan examined the woman's rather stressed expression. "Do you have any regrets?"

The woman bit her lip, then smiled grimly. "Too many, but my children aren't any of them."

"Bones!"

* * *

"They're good people." Brennan walked into the kitchen as Booth slipped his cell phone back into his pocket.

"They may be, but they're not our victim's family." Booth glanced into the living room where the couple quietly sat, the wife still gripping her cup of coffee. "They have four daughters: four, eight, eight, and fourteen."

"I think the oldest knows something." Brennan raised her eyebrows and folded her arms to emphasize. "Or she needs counseling for paranoia. She was afraid we would take her sister away."

Booth sighed. "We can talk to her, but I can't guarantee we'll learn anything."

* * *

Right outside, the two girls had pieces of chalk scattered across the cemented area, a rainbow of colors decorating the formerly-flowered sidewalk. Brennan scrunched her eyebrows.

"What happened to your flowers?"

"It was time for something different." The imp pointed to little colorful spots in the yard where she had spread the leaves and petals after clearing the sidewalk. "I finished it, so I had to start something new."

Booth stepped forward, interrupting the conversation. "Sorry, we need to speak with your sister alone."

The girl stomped her foot.

"Please?" Brennan smiled politely, and the girl quickly reflected the expression. She nodded and stepped inside. Brennan looked towards Booth. "See? You should have been more courteous."

The young teenager stared seriously at the agent. "You know about her, don't you?"

"Tabby?"

"No, Crystal."

The words struck Booth like a wave. "How did you know Crystal?"

"She was my sister."

* * *

"When we were growing up, she always went to a different school and a different doctor, and my parents always gave her different food. All my life I wondered why she was different from the rest of us, but she never let us know. She tried to take care of us when our parents were at work, and spent all of her free time with my sisters and me. I still remember the night she left."

She sunk down onto the wooden bench bordering the edge of the sidewalk, Brennan right beside her. "I wasn't supposed to hear, but I was eavesdropping from the stairs. Our parents told her she had to go... That someone wanted to take her... Tabby had just been born, and the twins were only four. They were told that Crystal was our cousin, and that our aunt would not let us see her any more. My parents forbid me to ever mention Crystal... They were afraid that if the person found out she was our sister, they would take one of us instead."

"Then why did you tell us?" Brennan cocked her head slightly in question.

"You said that you are a forensic anthropologist, and he is a F.B.I. agent." The girl shrugged sadly. "You are here because she was killed, aren't you?"

"I'm sorry." Booth nodded solemnly. "Could you tell us any more?"

"I was only nine when she left." Her face maintained its somber look. "I wasn't mature enough for them to tell me. Please, don't tell my parents. I think I should tell them."

"She died peacefully." Booth paused before he stepped inside. "I think they should know."

* * *

The pair walked in where the husband and wife relaxed on the couch, their youngest child between them. The young girl was fully asleep, but her parents clung to consciousness, watching television. The woman carefully moved her daughter without waking her then walked over to the visitors.

"Is there anything I can do?"

"I'm sorry." Booth's face formed a polite grin. "There was a small mistake, and we were given the wrong address."

"It was very nice to meet you." Brennan bowed slightly as she shook the woman's hand one last time.

She smiled and opened the door. "It was nice having you here."

The agent and the scientist walked out to the car, filled with a weird mix of guilt and relief.

* * *

"You should have asked the mother." Brennan pointed out as she shut the door of the truck. "She probably could have told you everything."

"Yeah, well, maybe I thought it would be better if I didn't." Booth buckled his seat belt and put the key in the ignition. "It is bad enough that her oldest daughter has been killed; it wouldn't--she doesn't need to know that it might have been the attempt to protect her daughter that led to her death. Why didn't you tell her?"

"I wanted to, but--"

A ringing sounded from Booth's pocket. "Could you get that for me?"

"Hello?" Brennan turned to her partner. "It's Cam."

Every now and then, Booth would hear a "Yes" or a "Sure," but by the time he was back on the interstate, which could not have been more than five minutes, he was annoyed to the brink of insanity. He turned to his partner, and rolled his hand questioningly, obviously annoyed.

Brennan removed her ear from the phone and pointed forward. "Keep your eyes on the road."

Brennan closed the phone and slid it back into Booth's pocket. "Hodgins analyzed the insect activity and determined that the body had been placed in the forest maybe an hour or two before the police and coroner arrived."

"And?"

"The call to the F.B.I. had been received in the same time frame, and nobody actually spoke to the people who supposedly found the body. From that, we might infer—"

"Either someone has very good timing or there was no call."

* * *

**So……….. Yeah. I think Brennan would treat a little kid the same way she would someone her age….. I don't know why XD **

**And I am kinda like an actor when I write... I have to know everything the characters are feeling to portray them accurately... For example, Booth thinks the case is a waste of time, but Brennan is genuinely interested because it is different from her normal cases. **


End file.
